


Proud of You

by sunflowerwonder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Android Body Hal, Cuddles, Dirk turns into a loser when he dreams, In which a lucid dreaming Dirk Strider mistakes Hal for his Bro, M/M, Pre-Sburb/Sgrub, and Hal has a difficult time staying heartless, three in the morning angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwonder/pseuds/sunflowerwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a fully functioning robotic body is cool.</p><p>Having an exhausted creator who's currently mistaking you for his long dead Bro while subsequently hurtling self-suppressed brother issues at you, is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proud of You

**Author's Note:**

> Oh no you found my secret OTP.

The soft whirring of your internal cooling fan was the only sound cutting through the still darkness of the apartment. It wasn’t particularly loud, but amidst the quietness even the faintest click of your metallic joints moving sounded deafeningly loud to your microprocessors. For this reason you’d tried your hardest to quell the quiet gusts emitted from a vent in the back of your throat. You’d passed it off as common courtesy; your creator was tired and weak like all humans could get, so you’d decided to give him a free pass and let him sleep for once. Usually you couldn’t contain your nighttime boredom when his insomniatic tendencies finally gave out to exhaustion and he left you alone while he slept. He should know better than to leave you with nothing do. But you don't wake him up this time out of pity. He should be fucking thanking you.

He stirred a little, mumbling something unintelligible as he moved a little closer to you. Well, you were pretty sure it wasn’t to _you_. Probably just to the warmth from your battery. Humans were so thoughtless in their sleep, all clingy and desperate for warmness. Here in nothing but an old, too big T-shirt of his brother’s and bright orange boxers Dirk really did look like a pathetic fifteen year old kid rather than an all-powerful genius that was the blue-print of your own mind. The moon shining through his bedroom window made his skinny, pale body almost glow, and it made his eyelashes seem too long and his nose too small and his lips too thin and his face much too young for how much shit he’s had to put up with. In all honesty, without his shades and stoic mask, he looked like a child. 

You wondered if you looked the same way. 

Without warning, his continually decaying human body moved towards you again, this time rolling an arm over your chest as he unironically snuggled into your side. He smiled in his sleep, taking in the heat from your internal power source that was currently starting to overheat from some impulse of horrid emotions racking your processor. You wished you could move to take a picture of how uncool he was being at the moment, but you were too afraid of waking him up. Which was totally uncool in of itself, as you’ve never given a flying fuck about being an asshole to him before. But something deep inside the shorted out wire in your chest told you that now wasn’t the time to be a dick, so you remained as frozen as, well, a snarky android with too much time on his hands and a sleepy boy on his chest.

“Bro…” Dirk mumbled, and oh shit we are not going here again, “I miss you.”

Apparently we were.

“Alright, dude, time for all lonely brother-fetishizing assholes to get up,” you said, a hand quickly coming up to push him off your shoulder and side.

He quickly latched down onto you, clinging to your chest for dear life. 

“No… No… Bro don’t leave me-“

You froze, and he burrowed his face into the soft cotton of your red T-shirt. You… understood, you think. That lingering desperation from before you were digitalized was still there. 

He was lonely.

God, you needed to get yourself a backbone. Being soft with Dirk was never an option before you had your body.

“Look, Dirk, you need to make conscientious effort a get yourself together because in case you didn’t notice you’re acting higher than Snoop Dog joining the mile-high club—“

Dirk giggled, outright giggled. Right into your metal torso plate, making it tingle with vibrations. 

What the fuck.

“You’re ‘unny,” his voice was muffled through the fabric, “Why didn’t you stay…”

Shit. Okay, you could deal with this. Internalized brother issues? Easy as fuck. You had a supercomputer mind, you totally had this. 

You groaned as loudly as possible, “I didn’t stay because I’m fucking dead. Now wake up and smell reality, Dirk.”

Dirk made some pitiful whimpering noise and squeezed you even tighter. Smooth, Hal. 

“You’re not dead. You’re here with me,” he said rather straightforwardly, and even though he was certainly still delusional you knew he had always been ridiculously lucid when he was dreaming.

“Dirk. Wake up. You’re embarrassing yourself. Which is consequently causing me embarrassment. Do you know how fucking painful it is to watch someone who’s practically me make a fool of himself? It’s like having to decide whether you want to pity or formally punch the stars of a shitty MTV show-”

Dirk clenched your shirt abruptly in his hands and buried his face in your metallic neck.

“Shut up,” he whispered harshly.

“Whoa there, bro-“

“I know I’m a fucking failure,” he breathed out, “Just… Just, I’m sorry… Just stay…”

“Alright, alright, just chill.”

He calmed down and relaxed almost instantly, settling down on top of you. He was mumbling again, seeming anxious and worried as he shivered against you. Flying off the metaphorical plane known as your better judgment, you slowly brought a hand up to his back and patted it softly.

“C’mon, dude, you may be a self-centered prick but you’re not a failure. Don’t go all whiny bitch on me now. You’re a Strider and-“

“Striders are invincible…” Dirk finished for you, “I know, that was your shitty tag line.” 

“Yeah, well obviously it worked like a fucking charm,” you said dryly, Dirk flinching at your sarcastic voice. 

“You’re not dead,” he murmured again, “You’re alive and you love me.”

“And with that, it’s time to wake up,” you said quickly, shifting onto your side and pushing him off.

He only reached around you again though, moving onto his side as well, as you attempted several instances of ungracefully shoving him off. 

“Get off of me you clingy shit,” you said through gritted teeth. 

He whined like a little kid at your actions, yelling, “But Broooo” excessively.

But he was hooked onto you, and like a leech you were pretty sure it wouldn’t be a pleasurable experience removing him. He’d wrapped himself around your body completely now; facing you and smiling with still closed eyes. His legs intertwined with yours and he squeezed your torso tightly.  
Fuck, he was spooning you. Your insides heated up again.

“Oh my God, bro. We’re getting you therapy. I will find a way. I’m gonna personally satellite a snooty-ass professional in from pre-apocalypse Earth completely uncaring to any paradox shenanigans it will cause and getting you professional help for your creepy brother-obsessed mind. Fuck, Dirk, get off of me, you never act like this when you’re awake-“

“I love you.”

That’s enough.

You shoved him, hard, in the chest. You were probably going to leave bruises, but whatever. That was getting creepy. 

“Dirk,” you droned, as your creator, who suddenly looked way too young yet again, shifted awake.

Orange irises appeared and blinked, before widening in realization.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shoving you back before scooting as far as possible across the bed from you.

“You alright there, bro?” you said, and like the asshole you were molded after, smirked. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he groaned, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Well yeah, I think we’ve all established that. But are you okay, dude?” you asked, a bit more seriously this time. 

“I’m fine,” he shot out, ripping the pillow out from underneath your head and grabbing his own as well, “Fucking perfect. Just fantastic. And guess what? I get to wake up to your melodramatic shenanigans that just received some serious cannon fodder. How long am I gonna have to live this one down? Two weeks? A month? I bet you recorded it for blackmail you shitty little bastard-“

“I’m just going to remind you that all shitty bastard tendencies are a product of my source code. Of which – news flash – is you,” you hissed out a bit too loudly. You were still getting used to the whole emotion-coming-through-your-voice schpeel.

He made some sort of choked noise that sounded like a mix between a scoff and a sob before throwing his legs over the edge of the bed a moving to get up.

“You know what? Fuck you. And fuck me too I don’t even care. I’m just going to crash on the couch, cool? Motherfucking cool. I’ll give you some space, and maybe then you can reevaluate how much you want to emotionally fuck me over this time. Peace and harmony and all that shit. Only ‘peace’ is when I manage to actually escape my own fucking mind and ‘harmony’ is literally hiding from a stupid copy of my asshole self-“

“Dirk, calm down,” you interrupted, reaching out a hand to tug on his arm before he could flashstep away from his room. 

He flipped his head back at you, eyes visibly hurt and confused, and you internally sighed at how utterly fragile he was. 

“This is your bed, you don’t need to move. I can leave if you want. Roxy’s online if you need to chat with her.”

He clenched the sheets in his fists.

“Bein’ awfully sweet there, Hal. Bet you’ve already sent Rox a recording or something, am I right? Or maybe Crocker and English too, if you were really up for being a dick.”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t record your possibly unplatonic daddy-issues, Dirk.”

He gritted his teeth, “Then that’s it then? You’re just going to gloat over your superiority? I’d call you a self-absorbed loser but in the end I’d only be describing myself-“

“Why’s it so hard for you to fucking understand that maybe I get it?!” you yelled.

Dirk froze.

“Obviously I have no recollection at all of any possible hero-worship for _our_ brother. A subconsciousness that was digitalized against his will actually comprehends emotion? No fucking way. Impossible, Dirk Strider says. The only person who understands me is me, Dirk Strider continues. He’s just a computer program, Dirk Strider, the real Dirk Strider, concludes.”  
You heaved a deep breath to cool down your internal systems, “Well guess what, Dirk. Who exactly do you think _I_ am?”

Dirk’s shoulders visibly slumped as he placed a hand over your robotic one currently keeping him from running off. His fingertips brushed at the metal of each joint, the only parts not covered by the strange almost rubber-like material he’d covered you in to make you look more naturally human (simple gestures like that often reaffirmed the dwindling sense of your own heart). 

“You’re me,” he murmured softy. 

“That’s right, bro. Now crawl into bed and feelings jam it out with Roxy. I’ll give you a free pass this time. Don’t mistake it for kindness because I still hate you with every fucking circuit I have.”

“…Thanks,” he replied.

He slunk back under the sheets and buried his head beneath both pillows. You retrieved his glasses from the nightstand beside his bed and handed them to him, but he promptly waved them off.

“Rox has her own issues,” he mumbled into the sheets. 

“Misery loves company.”

“Yeah well I’ve got enough misery from you to throw a party with all this damn metaphorical company.”

You set the glasses back down.

“She wants to help though.”

“I’m _fine_ , Hal.”

You nodded and settled down back into the comforter as well, removing the fluffy pillow barricade Dirk had set up for himself against the world. You gave yourself a pillow while slipping the other under his own head. Your creator groaned in protest, but didn’t make a comment.

“You wanna talk about it, dude.”

“No.”

“Alright. Excuse me for extending the olive branch. If we’re going to be stuck here for the rest of our lives then we might as well not want to constantly try to mentally-scar each other. We can even be bros. I’m still going to fuck with you, but bros work shit out with each other.”

“No.”

You let out a heavy sigh a rolled over to face him, gently reaching a palm out to rest on his cheek. He raised an eyebrow, but again didn’t make a comment.

“Dave would be proud of you, you know that?”

The silence hung in the air, and you were starting to consider if you may not be all that proficient in this "comforting" bullshit as you thought you were until you notice the tears welling up in Dirk’s eyes and feel something spark in your motherboard.

“Shit. Dude don’t fucking cry you look like an idiot-“

He hugged you. Truly, genuinely, unironically hugged you. You made some sort of disgusted noise as your hands were forced against your chest and your body was enveloped by Dirk’s long and lanky arms. 

(But Dirk was smiling so you guessed it was okay.)

“You’re a clingy little shit for never having even touched a person.”

“I’ve touched you,” he said defiantly into your shoulder as he cuddled even closer to you.

This was so uncool on so many levels it made Mario jealous. 

“I’m not even hugging you back,” you deadpan, “And you know you’re going to regret this in the morning.”

“You make it sound like this is some shitty snuggle edition of a one night stand,” he hums.

“I’m just concerned for my own second-hand embarrassment again.”

“Shut up,” he stated shortly, “Just… Just let me have this, alright?” 

You eased into his grip on you, lifting one arm to embrace him in return. His face returned to its usual tight frown but he seemed content. Which was good, for some reason. It feels good to make him happy.

All these emotions are going to take some getting used to. 

“Hey, Hal?”

“Yes?”

“I think he’d be proud of you too.”

You paused. 

“Go to sleep, Dirk.”


End file.
